Category: Life

My current writing process, looks a hella of a lot more like a marathon therapy session than anything else. Fun? Absolutely not. In fucking fact, it’s hard as hell. Usually it goes something like this. Every morning I wake up, take a shower. I then proceed to drink my coffee, while I read whichever book I am tearing into at the moment. Then spend half an hour on Headspace guided meditation, after which I sit down to write. Each session falls somewhere between half an hour, to an hour.
No, it sure as hell isn’t fun that fuels the engine. It is the necessity of getting it out of the way, so that I can move on to what it is that I really have to write. It is getting to the good shit. If I don’t ‘write it out’, I may never be able to get out of my own way, and deliver what I’m meant to, what I know that I got inside of me. Therefore the show goes on. Most day of the week is set up like this, because I have every intention of getting over this phase, as fast as the universe allows me to.

The rest of my focus are spend in the gym. Currently my coach predicts my training 3 weeks at a time. Honestly this kind of makes everything worse. That’s just the truth. I enjoy and get my release by lifting very heavy objects. So at this point submitting myself to the program that will ultimately produce the best long term results and hypertrophy on a bodybuilding stage, is in ways suffocating me. Most of the time I feel one of tree ways: 1. like smashing objects, 2. crying or 3. screaming into the face of vulnerable baby animals.

I don’t lift heavy to shape body in a certain way (at least I don’t anymore.) I used to do endless amounts of ‘accessory’ work to ensure that I was getting the full effect.
I stopped doing that when I realized that lifting heavy and constantly pushing myself beyond borders, was where I found the flow and peace that I had unknowingly been seeking my entire life.
It took a while to accept these truth or even understand it. In the moment I don’t think I knew just how much lifting meant to me. How much ‘me’ it was to be in the safe environment of the weights. When I switched to a new gym in ‘16, I also found my tribe. A group of people who understood what it felt like to be this kind of ‘different’.

The world doesn’t really understand it. It takes one look at girls with muscles and gets slightly unsettled. Voicing a cocktail of self-doubt and social ideals. It doesn’t know how to handle what is cultural unnatural. It might look fondly with approval on the round butt-cheeks, that our leg-training provides, but as soon as vascularity and upper body strength is mentioned, you’ll be told to be careful not to get too big. If in any case your looks should precede a muscularity of what is considered borderline acceptable, you’ll get a look like you have just insulted their mother or smacked a puppy. Girls aren’t suppose to be THAT strong. We should be fragile, petite and waiting to be saved from evil, evil dragons. ((Hah.))

The way I see it, there is just one problem in this scenario: My own, personal way of perceiving these opinions. These opinions have the least to do with me and my life choices. You make a strong statement or lifestyle choice and sure as shit Sherlock, people are going to bark. I think you’d would be surprised if I told how often I encounter critique about my looks and my weight. It is daily. I wouldn’t be lying if I estimated that my weight is debated among my peers, between 4 and 6 times a week. When I made the decision to start training heavy, it apparently also meant that I signed some invincible contract, making my personal life publicly debatable and appropriate to discuss at any given time. It was fucking weird getting used to, but for my own sake I had to get over it real fast.

I understand that this way of training, eating and living is strange, different and at times hard to understand. It isn’t the ideal way to live for most, and it isn’t something that most would desire in a million years. But living in this way, choosing this as my world, is my truth. To deny myself living this way, would ultimately be denying myself. Regardless of what others might be voicing as right or wrong, I have by choosing to refuse ‘the norm of ideals’, chosen me. I have decided to live my truth. Even when it isn’t simple. Even if it isn’t agreeable for most. Even if it means swimming against the stream.

This is what training is to me. Not an addition to living, but life itself. My survival. It isn’t me trying to optimize my body or change the way I look. It is my flow. The love I feel, when my heart starts pounding and how I came to find myself in ways I’d never imagined possible. When things got heavy.

There are bullet-points in life. Points of pleasure and of heartbreak. In hindsight I believe that I have learned my greatest lessons from the latter. Occasionally it happens that they are a combination of both. In the moment the experience doesn’t feel particularly great, but in the long run it will set you up for success.

This is the case with sobriety. It doesn’t feel good the first months, but over time you slowly become more yourself than ever before.
Then there are specs of time, when it appears as if everything suddenly makes sense. You come to understand why this was the only way forward. The puzzle-pieces start to fit together perfectly.
Frankly there are still times, when things aren’t awesome, and by now I am nearly four years into this game. I don’t think life will ever be a constant bliss.
When you give up addiction, you got nowhere to run to. This tends to create descent amounts of anxiety and fear. It’s almost like the tax of being sober and alive; at a certain point life will start demanding that you face yourself. Continue drinking and it will end up very, very terribly. Running with my deficiencies is a luxury I can no longer afford. It would ultimately be the end of me. Professionals agree.

My father taught me this well. Maybe that is in part why I came to my senses, hit rock bottom or made a complete mess out of things, so early on in life.
I don’t think I am special in that way. I just have a tendency to latch onto ideas and beliefs, the belief in this case being that I have a genetic illness called alcoholism. Dad has it too. It’s nobody’s fault per-say. We don’t get to choose the hand we are dealt, but we are responsible of how we act and how we play the cards. These aren’t new ideas, but lessons I have learned from people with more experience than I.

Pleasure is lovely. There are moments in life that we should hold close to your hearts. Cherish.
But in the end I’ve been raised by pain. I understand that suffering teaches me lessons I can use and accumulate practically in life.

What person willingly makes their vacation out to Poland, to experience a 74-year-old concentration camp, in order to explore an existential inner crisis. It’s strange. Most would choose to lay on a beach. I guess am I different that way.

Fifty Shades of Grey. Soft-core, cheesy porn-a-like. The title almost comes with an eye-roll from most guys I know. The thing about Fifty Shades is that this isn’t a movie entitled to you blokes. It’s a romantic drama, induced with sex. It is meant to spike the mood, fantasy and sex-drive of the ladies. That’s it. The results? They speak for themselves;

What you have to realize is that females ain’t got the same biological compounds in our brains as you. Traditional porn, for the most part, has zero effect on the average chick whatsoever. We need different things than you. Fifty Shades of Grey is the kind of porn that speak to our biology.
Females are human emotional roller-coasters. We are raised in a society where we have been spoon-fed stories about princesses and true-love. To light us up like a Christmas tree, we need bit of a story-line. Sorry, but being chased naked through the woods just doesn’t cut it. Most of us just aren’t going to buy into your Violet Blue fantasy.

Let me paint a different picture, so that next time your girl suggests y’all watch Fifty Shades you wont be so quick to write it off and complain that; “Steven’s girl don’t mind watching Fast and Furious 8.” Think about it for a second. Do you think Steven is getting laid tonight? No. Because Steven’s girl is like every other girl. She might agree to watch Fast and Furious 8, but she’ll also be sound asleep 20 minutes into the movie.Different things turn us on. So, however ridiculous this might sound to you, Fifty Shades of Grey are essentially our way of saying, ‘I want to be turned on.’ Have you ever understood the way of a girl’s mind before? My guess is no. Don’t start to dissect it now.

Fifty Shades allows girls to untie themselves sexually and mentally. This will ultimately be a win for you. The movie is a gateway for our imagination. As little girls we have been taught to ‘be good and play nice.’ This is our free-pass not to play so nice anymore. Fifty Shades invites us to imagine ourselves in a different role, without taking on the part of a porn-star.

Do you understand now why you shouldn’t hate on it? This fantasy isn’t meant for you. It’s not even meant for you to understand. Fifty Shades of Grey, is meant to turn on chicks. In the end, it will be a deal closer in the bedroom. Play nice when she suggests watching it, and you might just be the one to play the main part in the closing scene.

“For them it’s not about immediate perfection. It’s about learning something over time: confronting a challenge and making progress.”-Carol Dweck.‘Mindset.’

Moody. Annoyed with those around me. Short tempered in the morning. Self-centered. Purposely avoided talking to certain people. Left without saying goodbye. Cherry-picked who I had the energy to be nice to. Expected people to move out of my way. Greed. Anger. Felt like the world ‘owed’ me. Had super focus on my exam studies, (which resulted in) being proud and boastful. Snapped, (at more than just one person.) Impatient. Self-seeking. Rude.

These are (unfortunate) realities of the past week in my life. I know that as a human being, forgiving myself for these flaws are the only way to move past them and improve. However here’s what I don’t do when hormonal imperfections seem to catch up with me.

I don’t chose to ignore them.

When inappropriate mood strikes, I am hyper-aware of my actions. I try to take an objective and observing approach. This enables me to make changes and necessary improvements in the future.

I tread my emotional life as you would that of a child. I don’t yell, judge, make a scene or send the kid to their room. I sit down and reflect, and try to learn what could have been done differently. I try to draw conclusions on how I am going to approach situations, like this one, in the future.

Regardless of my wish to ALWAYS be humble, smiling, kind and perfect, I know it’s just not the reality of life. I am in a progress. The goal for me isn’t changing into some superhuman saint. The primary goal is the simple progression of learning. Love, kindness and social abilities are not something you wake up one day and just are. It isn’t a epiphany. It is skills you develop over time. Life throws you curb balls and you fall flat on your face? Then you get back up, and you might have a slightly different perspective than before. Everything you go through will serve as experience. Experience is practice, and practice will further your skills and development.

I’ve spend hours, upon hours, guilting myself because I didn’t live up to my personal expectations of love. Why didn’t / couldn’t I, just do it? This approach is the opposite of humility. Without practice the standard is ultimately unreachable.

How do you expect someone to become a varsity level player, before putting them through the basics training first? You don’t. To improve in sports, we practice. We fall down, we get up and we continue to practice. Then we practice some more, and even when we are great players, we keep showing up for practice.

These same principals count when we are in social surroundings. Personally, I find it very challenging to be in the midst of social situations. In sports there is predicted outcomes. To prepare for social situations are quite different. You can’t predict outcomes. I used to think that I was condemned to be a social moody misfit. I have come to believe that the reality is quite different. Social interaction and the love for my peers, are skills that can flourish over time, with practice and a fundamental nurture towards the small steps. Pause, reflect and chase improvement, that is the way of the growing mindset.

It is May, and we are moving unexpectedly fast into summer. Majority of the population have already given up on their New Year’s resolutions and accepted that 2017, once again, wasn’t the ‘new year, new me’, that they’d hoped for. This isn’t pointing fingers, in fact if you have made it passed February, you’ve probably had a bigger success than most of your peers.

Stakes. If they ain’t high enough and our end goal isn’t clear, we tend to lose sight of why something was important in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, the goals we sat out for ourselves was way too diverse? Was it a bit was unrealistic to loose 150 lbs. and have a shredded six-pack, come beach season? After all, a resolution often craves a big change that wasn’t there before. A change that’s most likely going to have a huge and forceful impact on your life.

It all seemed to fucking fantastic before the ball dropped didn’t it? But then the light draws through the curtains. The house is a mess and you start craving that first cigarette you swore was the last yesterday, seconds before you tossed the pack. Or maybe you have a massive hangover, that basically demands a double cheeseburger with XXXL fries. Besides, only fast food joints are open on the unholy day of the first of the year. You’ll start ‘fresh’ tomorrow.
So many people fall prey to this trap. They start going to the gym in January, and are good and gone after 3 excruciating workouts.
Or they start a new ‘diet’ with big watery eyes, and Hollywood romance written all over their faces. Only to realize that diets sucks, and are much less glamorous after living on chicken, broccoli and rice two weeks straight. I’m not saying it can’t be done. It can. Is it fun? Most certainly not.
Expectations have to be adjusted. Goals and set points have to be outlined, so the path ahead is clear. You need a game-plan when your lover shows up on Friday evening, with chocolate fondue and a rose in his mouth, declaring that the gym will have to wait and gymnastics in the bedroom is the solution to starvation in the middle east.

I will openly admit to the fact, that I live my life in a pretty crazy fashion. Most wouldn’t fancy my lifestyle, train like I do, or devote twenty percent of their existence to weighing chicken.

Why then, does it work for me? How can I keep doing, what I do, long pas February. Year after year? Why do you often find me in an overheated corner of a gym, when most of everyone else has packed up and gone to the beach, or hit a flight to Spain? What is my dirty little secret?

Consistency and priorities.

I simply can’t imagine doing anything else, that makes more sense, or brings the same measure of fulfillment.
Despite getting bored or demotivated from time to time.I love my life and I love what I do.

I’ve been a runner on/off for years. What happens is that eventually I get fed up and stop altogether. It’s a race I can’t seem to win and more importantly, it doesn’t spark joy. I also failed to set realistic goals for myself. Without a target the race becomes a whole different kind of unmanageable. Why keep running, if you have no clue exactly why and what you are running for?

Maybe your target is losing 20-30 lbs, maybe more, maybe less. The important thing is asking yourself ‘Why?’. Why do you want to lose weight? Is to be healthier? Are you at health risk? Is it because you are insecure? Want to feel more confident? Is it because someone have pointed out you could ‘loose some’?
It’s important to define why things plays a significant role in your life. Having a clear end target will give you an idea of where to go, how to stay on your path and when you have won the race.

I fell into the setting of the gym and lifting weights, by accident. I had strained myself running and had to find a suitable alternative. I made ALL the mistakes someone could possible make in my first half year. None the less, I felt something there, I never had running mile after mile. I found real joy by the dumbbells. It was a matrix moment. It didn’t take me long to start seeing major results and ditch the cardio all together. I was in my element. I love everything about being there, the iron, the chalk, the pump. The people I train with is my tribe. They get my language and I feel at home.

This is what consistency looks like: Something you can see yourself doing for the rest of your life. Or more importantly, something you can’t imagine living without.

So I dare you: Find out what is important to you. I don’t care whether it is lifting weights, running ultra-endurance marathons, swimming or playing beer-pong. Find out what you enjoy and stick with it.
The unsexy truth about results and mastery, is that they only occur when you keep grinding long enough to become good at what you do.

“The opposite of love is indifference, and the opposite of happiness is boredom.” –Timothy Ferriss

The influence we as humans have on each other, are unavoidable. This impact that extend far beyond physical interactions. There are people, fictional or otherwise, who inspire and motivate me to change and see things from a different perspective. They can be viewed as temporary teachers. Exemplary, the author, have the mastery and power in his possession to influence others regardless of physical presence.

First and foremost, the 4HWW is practical. It’s very easily to accumulate the information provided, and immediately put it to practical use. And. It. Works! This is the book, I can honestly NOT stop recommending to everyone. Feel deprived in life? Read the 4HWW. No money? Want to travel? Read the 4HWW. Problems with your grandma? READ IT.

The 4HWW have taken me from ‘being stuck in the daily maze of 9-5’ to living a life based on personal freedom, opportunities, and the ability to do MORE with my time. Most importantly? It has created mental space. The book gives a practical road-map to get ‘unstuck’ from what is ‘normal and expected’ in today’s society. It gives a foundation for putting a why in front of easily accepted truths, that surrounds us on a daily basis. One of the most important takeaways, was the ability to do things differently and allowing everything to be possible. The principals in this manual allows you to question everything you thought you knew, and swim against the stream. Even if just a few of the keys in this book is applied, the changes still have the ability to have life-changing impact. I didn’t have to start my own company to apply the necessary foundations otherwise mentioned in the literature and see a mayor changes in my life.

The 4HWW is my first review because it has been one of the biggest game changers, added to my life in years. It’s the one thing that really pushed me to taking a closer look at my fears, and actually getting on that airplane to Poland (ALONE). It was less than a month and a half after reading it, when I found myself 1000 kilometers away from home, feeling excited and proud of my newly found courage and freedom. This book helped expand my horizon and possibilities. It eliminates excuses that clutter life, mind and our ability to maximize the potential we got right in front of us. The potential to truly and freely happy. I suggest you give this book a go. Apply what is appropriate, and leave the rest for someone else. Honestly my life has become much more exiting and real since I picked up the 4HWW. Globe-trotting has become one of my new favorite activities. (Did I mention I’m leaving again next month after finals?)

“Our generation is realistic, for we have come to know man as he really is. After all, man is that being who invented the gas chambers of Auschwitz; however, he is also that being who entered those gas chambers upright, with the Lord’s Prayer or the Shema Yisrael on his lips.”—Viktor Frankl. “Man’s Search for Meaning.’

Note to reader: This is my personal experience at the German Concentration Camps, Auschwitz-Birkenau located in Oświęcim, Poland. An hour and a half’s drive from Krakow. (the country’s third largest city). My visit there is solely based on personal understanding and reflections. All opinions are grounded in my own experience at the death-camp. This post is not up for discussion nor disagreement. It is a very sensitive matter for me, as well as many others affected by this tragedy. If you are of another opinion, than my experience I only ask you respectably take it elsewhere, where such matters are more appropriate.

I woke up Tuesday morning. The weather had dropped from 68°F (20°C) the day before, to just above 50°F (10°C) over night. It was raining and grey outside. It wasn’t the sunshine and lovely temperatures that had met me upon my arrival, just days before. However, this was appropriate weather for visiting the concentration camps. I felt as if sadness and mourning literally hung in the air.

What happened in Oświęcim, Poland was one of the greatest tragedies in human history. This is undoubtable. This is what you should expect encountering if you decide to tour the Auschwitz death camps. Nothing less. This isn’t a museum, it’s a place where many suffered and were murdered. To this day, people nationwide still mourn this location and occurrence.

My visit to the memorial grounds of Auschwitz-Birkenau didn’t hit me till later. When I was there I felt prepared and well-informed by Victor Frankl’s memoir, experience and suffering. In the days up to my departure for Krakow, I read his memoir ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’. Victor was a Jewish holocaust survivor. He was held prisoner for three years in the German concentration camps, Auschwitz I and Birkenau II, included. So, I knew what I was getting myself into, before I even got on an airplane to Poland. I wasn’t chasing after this place, as a historic interest, I think that would be very disrespectful. For good reasons. The despair rooted in the place, is suffocating and unbearable at best.

It is seventy-four years since Auschwitz-Birkenau was liberated, at the end of WWII. The polish government decided in the years following, to keep the two concentration camps intact as museum, memorial and as reminder of the past. It stands today, as it did seventy-four years ago. Auschwitz-Birkenau is the one of most well-preserved pieces of history, we have left from the war.

6 of these cans of gas was used to kill 2.000 victims at once.

Some of the camp were destroyed immediately after liberation. Four out of five gas-chambers were destroyed. Most war-pictures were burned or buried by the German government. Most is still left in good conditions and the remains of the death-camp is plenty horrifying to bring ever visiting soul to tears. There were rooms filled with shoes. Millions of pairs of shoes. Suitcases and belongings taken from war-victims, before they were sent directly to the gas-chambers and killed. Mothers and children, the weaker and unsuitable. 90% of all who entered the camp, was sent directly to be gassed upon arrival. The only Jewish children whom survived the gas chambers where the twins. They were subject of interest. The Germans preformed ’medical experiments’ on them, before they also were sent to be executed.
There were a rooms full of human hair. Tons and TONS of human hair. Some of it were carefully braided. Then it was cut off and collected, to make fabric for war uniforms for the Germans. This happened to every single arrival at the Nazi Camp. It was a very horrible sight, to say the least.

One of the destroyed gas-chambers at Birkenau II.

The most excruciating part of the experience, is knowing that well-over a million people were murdered in that exact location. Birkenau II is the latter portion of the camp build. It’s over twenty times bigger than the original Auschwitz I. They build it because Auschwitz I, just wasn’t big enough to hold and kill the war slaves. They needed bigger gas-chambers. The new gas-chambers they build in Birkenau II, could kill an estimated two-thousand people at once. They build four. These chambers were hardly ever empty. The ashes of the people killed where spread on the camp grounds, where they died. When you walk the grounds of Auschwitz-Birkenau, you walk directly on graves of over a million innocent victims of the Second World War. After liberation the whole place was basically human ashes.

The sorrow and memorial goes on to this day.

The feeling of despair and sorrow lived on the camp-grounds. This was also the feeling that stayed with me hours and days, after our tour was over. I felt cool and collected on the tour, but the aftermath of the shock lingered. These are things, that you can expect from a visit to the Auschwitz-Birkenau Memorial and Museum. The polish still deeply mourns these grounds. I even encountered some, whom had never visited. The pain and the memory of the past had already made a permanent mark on their souls. They didn’t want to go. They didn’t need to.

I went to the camp with questions. Lots of questions. Questions of suffering. Questions about meaning. I came out of the experience broken, tearful and safe to say; with more questions than before I went in. I was not a pleasant experience, but I do believe that it was an extremely essential one. One that will help shape and form my perception on human life, mercy and love from now on. Yes, I came out of the experience with more questions than ever before. But these are new questions: Questions every human needs to ask themselves at one point or another. I also came out of the experience with a deeper appreciation for life. I came out of the experience with a deeper love for myself. The camps proved one thing to me: Every human being deserves love. We mourn over a million, whom were unrightfully murdered in cold blood. Yet most of us don’t know a single one of their souls, or have any personal connection to the history of the place. This is what binds us together as a human race. The love we have for one another. This gives me reason to forgive. Forgive those around me. Forgive myself. Ultimately learn to love. Because if thousands can love the unknown, I can love what is known. When I start to love myself, I can start to genuinely love you.

‘It is so hard to leave — until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.’John Green, Paper Towns.

The first thing I saw flying into Poland, was the formations of what was left after the communist movement of Stalin. Krakow is every emotion; it is beautiful, old, historic, proud and it easily tops as one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever seen. It is a boiling pot of the old: Castles, churches and ruins and on the other hand it is also a mix of what is left from industrial communism. Broken buildings. Houses that are falling apart. Apartments build with cheaper solution materials, in the midst of WW2. Beautiful historic buildings with broken in windows, left for death, because nobody has the resources or means to care for them any longer. These are things whom speaks poverty and sorrow, which gives Krakow a strange but unique identity. It tells a story, not grounded in suffering alone, but also in victory and survival. The roads are so very dusty, but are fairly empty for trash and littering. The generation older than thirty are very difficult to communicate with, but are mostly friendly and seem like they want to be helpful, despite the language barrier.

I like it a lot here. The food is very nice, lots of sauerkraut and sausages, and the eggs taste absolutely amazing, (I don’t know why, they are so flavorful. I have eaten SO many eggs since I got here.) The weather have been on my side: amazing. I swear it was like the most perfect summer weather yesterday. I must have waked around between five and six hours, just taking in the city and trying to navigate.

I can’t believe that I brought myself here. Honestly it a mental border I didn’t imagine myself crossing. That’s the thought that keeps returning to my mind. I’m really proud of myself. Proud for making a leap. Proud for having courage. Proud for making it work, even when everything seems to be a chaotic mess. I guess I owe some of the honer to Tim Ferriss, for writing the 4-hour Work Week, and inspiring me to break my mental matrix. Allowing me to put my excuses to rest and leave my fears in a Danish forest. Because ‘Who Says’ I can’t? Maybe, next year I will actually plan a trip to Japan and go? Thanks, John.

Here’s the truth; staying in the same place too long, is, and have been, very unhealthy for me. What happens is that I get stuck in the same routines, which has a tendency of being a tad on the the obsessive compulsive side of what is good. I do the same things day in, and day out. Why? Simply because it’s comfortable and safe. It is however not healthy. Not for my perspective. Not for my perception, and not for my spiritual life. It can be very hard to recognize these truths, when I am stuck in the midst of it all.

So, I am here. Krakow. To see. To feel; Both myself and something besides myself. To get over myself. To meet myself, and to meet something besides myself.
Partly this trip is meant to take the air out of some of my obsessive behaviors. They have grown so effortlessly. Lost in the months spend in my everyday slumber. Nothing takes the air out of the compulsive sails, like being thrown into a foreign setting. Nothing here is like it usually is at home. In Krakow it is not possible to do what I usually do. Away from my daily routine, I become strictly aware of these nasty habits, I’ve gathered around me like naughty little ducklings.

SHORT HONEST LIST OF MY DARK DUCKS :
(a.) artificial sweeteners (which I have a mayor suspicion really fucks with my hormones)
(b.) my necessity to be in the gym, for at least two hours every day.
(c.) My general oversensitivity to smells and the smell of cigarettes, in the strange apartment I’m staying at.
(d.) General controlling eating habits and my compulsion to wanna check macros (fat, protein, carbs) on everything I’m eating. Here, I am unable to check things, which gives me a chance to ACTUALLY learn to be fucking flexible. I’m not, but in Krakow, I get to grind it out and learn to be. And it’s great for me. (Not really a total pleasure, but a really good for both my body and for my mental health.)

In short I’m forced to loosen up my grid, give up control and go with the flow. Be carried on the winds of Krakow. Altogether, this is really great for me. So if you want ‘change’, just go ahead and relocate your ass somewhere foreign, because shit will for sure hit the fan, and there is no choice but to laugh and find the silver lining.

So when I find myself in a strange apartment in Krakow, Poland, which kinda smells like smoke and everything is unfamiliar and I can’t even translate the food label to know how much protein I’m getting, it’s still OKAY. Because it’s an adventure. And I’m in love with the learning. And the living. And the loving myself, kindly and with a laugh, when things go south. Without it I wouldn’t last.Okay? Okay!

About a year ago, I was chatting to my, at the time, hardcore gym-crush. Together were contemplating travel locations & places that we wanted to visit before we died. We had this common ground of desiring historic or strange travel-destinations. These places were basically anything but a beach in Spain, or a shopping trip to New York. I stated that I’d been wanting to see
(1.) The Harry Potter Museum in England. (Seriously; look it up and steal my idea. It looks so bomb.) I still have in mind to find a partner in crime and/or just go sometime within the nearest as possible future.

[the Harry Potter Museum in England]

(2.) I really wanted to see the Auschwitz Concentrations Camps, I and II, in Poland. (At the time I actually thought Auschwitz was located in Germany. Geography has never been my strong suit. At least I found this out, before I bought the tickets ‘eh?)

It is safe to say that my desire to visit and see the Concentration Camps in Poland, lasted a lot longer than my crush on gym-boy. Tomorrow I am leaving for five days to vacation in Krakow, Poland. My thought is, that a visit to a place like Auschwitz is something very essential to the human spirit. Combined with a good six years of existential crisis and lots (and lots) of time, in my own company. My hope is that this place will bring some reflection, to my own experience with suffering and bring some understanding to life as a whole. So I guess going this is kind of an existential crisis, within an existential crisis.

I want to see and get a feeling of what legends, like Victor Frankl, lived through. I’d like to encounter what is possible to survive as a human being. It is my wish to contact some humility and love inside myself for others. It’s a bit difficult to say exactly what I am chasing on this journey. I just know that this is the way, I am supposed to walk. Kind of like writing, art and music. I am not moving: I am being moved. It’s a beautiful thing, really. This is a trip for a lot of reasons.

It’s a big deal for me to be going alone. I haven’t traveled much since I relocated back to Europe in ’11. So this is kinda scary. I dramatically imagine it going one of two ways: The first is being abducted by the polish, whom I’ll never learn to fully understand nor speak to. The second, is that they make me their queen. Here the lack of communication this still come into play. I’ll forever have to settle for being unable to speak to anybody, ever again. Someone was kind enough to point out that Poland wasn’t a kingdom, which leaves me back at option one.

I’ll be leaving a complete and lovely review on my blog of Poland’s amazing attractions, and of cause my experience at the Concentration Camps.
I’m sure it’ll be okay. Okay.

We are but an ocean Sign to the heart Line up the stars We are but a subtle notionI wasn’t meant to be tied downBoats they leave and come to shore Carried into oceans roar Staying here will make me drownWe are but an ocean Sign to the heart Line up the stars We are but a subtle notionYou are more than this place Seagulls gather as they flyAfar you only hear them cryWe should leave without a traceFreja Blay. Aarhus, Denmark.28th of March 2017.